Rustle, rustle.

  Heron swore he saw beady, little red eyes glaring from the bush. His eyes flicked to the side, searching for a weapon. Sadly, the best he could do was grab a nearby stick and wave it menacingly. Begone, foul creature!

  The heat from the fire hit his back as his heart pounded. He stood up, trying to look bigger than he felt, and his hand trembled as he held his makeshift wooden weapon. He was a grown man; he could take on a slime, maybe even a goblin. Right?

  The leaves rustled some more and Heron grimaced in anticipation of the ambush. He held his stance in his underpants, the stick he held was more like a pathetic wand than a knock-off sword.

  He was determined to survive regardless of what would arise from the shadows. Whether it was a beast, monster, or his worst nightmare, he would fend it off. Even with a short stick made of wood. Heron did not get isekai’d just to be taken out on day two—

  Finally, the boss appeared.

  Hop.

  Hop?

  Heron blinked. It blinked back. It took a few more hops before it settled down, nose twitching as it chewed on the nearby grass. Heron lowered his stick. Clearing his throat, he sat back down on the grass.

  The white rabbit continued to nibble, paying no attention to Heron.

  He stared at the flames to justify the heat in his cheeks. Clicking his tongue, Heron muttered under his breath. “Darn little thing is too comfortable. I could eat you, ya know?”

  The rabbit didn’t say anything. But it definitely knew Heron was lying.

  Heron had been an office worker—an indoor-only, sedentary salary-man. So no, he wasn’t going to eat the rabbit. More like he couldn’t. He was no hunter who knew the ways of tracking, killing, and skinning game. Even if he wanted to, the chances of Heron catching the rabbit with his bare hands was equal to him flying into outer space. It was negligible.

  His stomach growled angrily and he sighed. That’s right, before the rabbit had shown up, he’d been contemplating on what to summon for a meal that wasn’t melon bread. If his theory was correct, summoning a vegetable should be less stressful on his body. His major concern was that he had less energy today than he had started yesterday; he was used to skipping meals at the office, not after a full day of walking. If this vegetable knocked him out, he was going to be more than mildly upset.

  But what vegetable would be suited for his current conditions?

  Heron needed it to be a singular vegetable. There were too many unknown variables on what determined the cost of energy that was consumed when summoning with magic. He didn’t know if the cost depended on what the size, weight, or the complexity of the item was. His hypothesis was that the larger, heavier, and more complex an item was, the more taxing it would be on his body. One day, he would attempt the melon bread once more, but he couldn’t risk it now.

  So what vegetable was there that would be size appropriate, simple, edible, and high on the satiety index—

  “A potato!” Heron snapped his fingers as he brightened.

  With the rabbit hopping in the background, Heron raised his palm as he focused at the center of it. Think of the potato, feel the potato, be one with the potato. Imagine the round shape, the rough skin, and the starchiness of it…

  A small, bulbous green glow appeared at the center of his palm. Inhaling slowly, Heron watched with wonder as a bud of a potato began to grow. Good gods, he was a potato creator. With the power of imagination and whatever sorcery this was, he could make as many potatoes as his heart desired—

  The dizziness hit him and he clutched his temple with his other hand. No, he couldn’t pass out now. Not when he was this close to having his first proper meal in over a day. As the vertigo passed, Heron sighed in relief. He wasn’t one to laugh at danger, but he found it fairly amusing that he had stooped to the level of considering a single potato as a proper meal. Though it sure beat the melon bread that was leftover by a thief of a slime.

  Perhaps he had been a tad greedy when he had imagined it, as the gigantic potato fit perfectly in his hand. It was on the heftier side and Heron was glad it would be enough to eat.

  Staring at the potato, he wondered how he was going to eat the darn thing. Definitely not raw as raw potatoes were not tasty; it was like having an apple, minus all the good parts. Without a pot, Heron couldn’t boil it. Perhaps he could roast it over the fire? Finding a nearby stick, he jabbed it in and pierced the vegetable. Propping it up by one of the stones, Heron roasted the potato by the fire.

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  With his meal cooking, Heron felt his throat tickle. He was running on fumes with too little to eat and too little to drink. There had to be a way to acquire water more efficiently. Besides size, weight, and complexity, could summoning, creating, and generating objects in different states such as solid, liquid, or gas require different amounts of energy?

  The potato had drained his energy far more than summoning water did, and he wondered if it was because of the state difference—solid instead of liquid—or due to potatoes having a more complex scientific structure than water did. Or maybe it had nothing to do with science at all. It was time to test out another theory.

  He glanced over to the rabbit. It appeared to be resting though it still had its eyes open. If Heron didn’t know better, he would’ve thought it was watching him. Not in the way a prey watched a predator, but rather the other way around. He hoped it wasn’t interested in his potato the way the slime had been interested in his melon bread. He’d had enough of thieving creatures in one day.

  “Watch the fire and please don’t eat my potato.” He smiled sheepishly.

  The rabbit didn’t respond. Heron felt silly asking, but for some strange reason, he had felt the need to. He’d already seen a real life slime so the odds of a rabbit that could understand him wasn’t that preposterous. Besides, no one was watching him.

  Standing up, he walked away from the crackling flames, leaving his campsite behind. The rabbit stayed put, completely undisturbed by the movement. Heron headed towards the lake to accomplish the task he had set out to do.

  Down by the water, he stared across the gorgeous, calm blue. It wasn’t a large lake and Heron had plans to follow alongside the coast later this afternoon in hopes of encountering civilization before nightfall. But until then, he was here for a minor experiment. Walking to the water’s edge, he knelt down to scoop a handful of water.

  Now, how to purify it?

  Heron stared at the water cupped in his palm. He had no clue how water was purified. When he had summoned it yesterday, he had just imagined the process. But when it came to purifying water—or rather, filtering it—Heron found it difficult to imagine what it looked like. Back home, he had a filter system. He didn’t actually know what the process looked like or entailed.

  Maybe he could just imagine this scoop of water in his hand had run through the filtering system?

  With that single thought, Heron witnessed a subtle, blue glow that appeared in the center of the water in his hand. The glow continued to grow until it encompassed the entirety of the liquid. It was as if there were tiny jewels in the water, sparkling from the light refracted. Heron held perfectly still until the glow died away.

  Did it work? Just like that?

  He couldn’t tell, and it wasn’t like he could test it out. No water purity score, no filter, and no test subjects besides himself. He eyed the water suspiciously. What was the worst that could happen? Death? He hoped not. Heron decided he’d better find out. There was no reason that the magic didn’t work if it had glowed like it did.

  He drank the water and… nothing happened.

  Of course nothing happened, he should have anticipated it. If there were to be terrible side effects, it would probably occur later—after it cycled through his body. Well, he’d figure out how to deal with the repercussions if there were any. For now, he would take things at face value. The water? Deemed safe until further notice. The good news? Purifying the water appeared to take less energy, so that was delightful.

  Hurrying back to the clearing, Heron sneezed. While the sun—which was still nowhere to be seen—was still out, the air was warm but that didn’t stop him from feeling a chill from the breeze. Placing the potato by the side to cool off, Heron tossed on his dried shirt and slacks, slinging the tie around his neck loosely.

  Taking a seat by the hearth, Heron waited patiently for his hot potato to cool down. He needed to eat quickly if he wanted to make the most of his day traveling before the sun set. He prayed there would be a village past the lake, in the trajectory of his planned path this afternoon.

  The potato was still toasty when Heron plucked it from the stick it had been roasting on. Breaking it in half, the steam escaped from the starchy vegetable. Heron wished he had butter and cheese to go with it; can’t go wrong with a baked potato after all. But alas, he had a suspicion that if summoning a potato had almost knocked him out, then butter and cheese definitely would.

  He sighed as he ate his potato. Heron wasn’t one to complain—normally he would accept his grievances. But a plain potato was just too sad. His mind immediately went to salt. The simplest seasoning possible. Since it was simple and a basic mineral, he could choose how much or how little he could make. So surely it would turn out fine if he salted his potato?

  Gray, glowing sparkles appeared on the potato, right where Heron had envisioned where the salt would land. Taking a bite, he grimaced as it failed to meet his expectations. That… was not quite enough. Trying once more, he imagined a bit more. His mind flickered for a moment where his potato was covered in salt. Oh snappers—

  Blowing the extra salt off, he then shook his potato to get the pile off. Guess magic was a bit touchy. Intrusive thoughts were dangerous. He’d have to practice controlling his imagery and vision if he didn’t want to accidentally cause a magic-extravaganza. But for now, he had a fat potato to finish eating, and just enough salt so it wasn’t plain. Heron was satisfied.

  After finishing his potato and his fire had run out, Heron sighed in satisfaction as he stood and stretched. Glancing to the side, he peeked at the rabbit. It hadn’t moved since earlier. But it was still watching. Weird, but maybe that was normal? No matter, it was likely midday by this point and Heron had his journey set out for him. Another full day of walking!

  With one last glance as goodbye, Heron left the boulder, his dead campfire, and white rabbit friend behind.

  Heron did not like what he saw.

  It’d been countless hours of walking, wandering from the coastline of the lake, to another forest, then past a few hills and more clearings. He was certain he had walked as straight as an arrow down his chosen path. He had paid extra attention to his walk today. And yet—

  Here was the boulder again.

  The same boulder he’d seen last night. The same boulder he’d seen yesterday morning.

  The sky was an orange haze and the silence was strangling. Heron glanced from the boulder to the grassy clearing to the trees that surrounded the area. There was no mistaking it. It wasn’t a coincidence or a near identical space. It was the exact same space as he had left it. Because the makeshift fire stone pit he had made was still there. His butt-print in the grass was still there.

  And so was the rabbit.